Braids
by Annabeth-Artemis
Summary: “He had seen her beside him in his mind, not a queen or even an empress, but something greater. Some title far worthier of her.” Oneshot, possibly more. *TLJ spoilers*


A/N: Just a oneshot that might get expanded depending on the reception. Oh, and I don't own Star Wars.

Rey would kill him, that much he knew.

It took a long time for him to accept it, of course. But that look in her eyes… it was different from the one she had before. Before, it was saturated in rage, in hatred. She was single-minded in her purity of emotion, yet emotion didn't make her stronger than he. He had enough for both of them.

But now.

The link hadn't severed with Snoke's death. He had known from the second the lightsaber passed through the Supreme Leader that it still existed, just not that he would still need to concern himself with it. He had seen her beside him in his mind, not a queen or even an empress, but something greater. Some title far worthier of her.

He had thought (at one time) that she might have dreamt the same.

"You didn't answer me, Kylo."

He blinked once at the name and focused on her face again. She was standing, chin cocked, eyes alert, hand on her belt as if reaching for the saber that wasn't there. It wasn't hatred in her eyes. She didn't feel betrayed any longer. No, the expression on her face was something that he dreaded far more.

It was indifference.

"I don't know how," he said calmly. "Believe me, if I did, I'd have cut it by now."

Lie. He wouldn't have. They both knew it, but Rey didn't care—it didn't change anything. "Then you'll excuse me while I work."

He watched her turn around, braid falling back over her shoulder. Some distant part of him noted she'd done her hair differently. It was almost comical that after everything, that was what his mind focused on.

"How can you justify pursing any other course of action?" He found himself asking, partly because he was curious and partly because he didn't want to stop talking to her. "You have so few left."

She didn't answer for a moment, tapping the screen in front of her. "There will never be a small number against the First Order."

A canned response. "Is that what you truly think? Or have they programmed you the way I, too, was programmed?"

"No one programmed me with anything." Her voice still had that infuriating level tone. "I chose the light just as it chose me."

"And now the light has you working with scrap metal for a ship and half a squadron for an army. It seems that things aren't as balanced as you might've hoped."

He was standing on the other side of the screen from her, watching her dark eyes for any hint of a bend.

"I suppose I should be flattered, then, that the Supreme Leader himself has deigned to speak with one lowlier than the ground on which he walks."

"You think I have no respect for you."

"I think you have far too much respect for yourself."

Kylo clenched his jaw. She mocked him, but there was no passion in it—only something close to boredom. Resignation. It drove him near insane.

He removed his gloves one finger at a time before stepping around the table. He pushed aside the papers that she was touching and they disappeared to his view as they left her hands, her small hands that he knew held such power. He could feel it vibrate in the air between them as he leaned forward. Her lips were parted just slightly.

"And if I said I wanted to marry you?"

Her head jerked up in reaction to that, and there, there was that spark of hatred. Finally. Her mouth drew itself into a near snarl.

"I'd say it was more proof that you were afraid to lose everything you've built of your precious Order."

"But you haven't said no."

"I said yes to Ben. I will not say yes to Kylo."

She talked about Ben as if he was separate, like he had a twin brother that had just passed on. Was that what she saw, then? Kylo was the twisted part of him, the ugly, blackened, bastardized version of a cleaner, lighter Ben.

It hurt. It hurt more than he wanted to admit. He lifted his chin, nodding at the blaster on the table.

"Then end this. Find me—find Kylo. I know you want me dead. Set things right in the balance, get rid of the old things. See to it that you singlehandedly win this war and just kill me, Rey."

His words hung in the air like a ship just out of hyperspace. The hatred in her eyes was not a leaping flame, but a slow, broiling burn.

And then she laughed.

"You're like a schoolboy. Pulling my braids to try to intimidate me. It only confirms what I know you never learned: the most important thing."

His scar twitched. He said nothing as she leaned on her elbows, almost too casual a motion for their exchange. "I've already cut all my braids off."

"Rey?"

A man's voice, somewhere behind her. "Who are you talking to?"

"No one." She shot a glance at Kylo and then turned toward the other voice. "Absolutely no one."

The world fell away as the link dissolved. He was alone in his chambers.

I will not say yes to Kylo.

His hand was still outstretched in front of him.


End file.
